


in times of war (may our pillars doesn't shake down)

by Luperrcalia



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Married Couple, Multi, Mutual Pining, OT3, Polyamory, Religious Conflict, could someone slap alfred on the head pls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27381991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luperrcalia/pseuds/Luperrcalia
Summary: Perhaps, even though old Ecbert was dead, he was turning over in his grave at theaudacityof his Heir warming his solitary nights with thoughts of not only the shield-maiden but also a man.
Relationships: Alfred/Torvi (Vikings), Alfred/Ubbe (Vikings), Torvi/Ubbe (Vikings), Torvi/Ubbe/Alfred
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23
Collections: Polyamorous & OT3 Fics





	in times of war (may our pillars doesn't shake down)

**Author's Note:**

> I know that Lagertha/Ragnar/Athelstan is (way) more canon than this triad, but there is nothing I can do about it. These three are the ones who live in my heart rent free.

There were people that mistook King Ecbert's carefully constructed image as a pious man, and never got a glimpse of who he truly was. And there were people that considered Alfred to be the same — what with that pilgrimage to the holy city of Rome that he was commanded to go when he was only a wee child, and the tedious catechism he had endured in his boyhood. The King had made sure to construct his Heir's image as what he thought would be _appropriate_ for the times to come.

Nevertheless, Alfred had known Ecbert not only as his King but as family also, and had been able to see him in a more honest light: as much as he admired the old man, he was aware that the King was no Saint but a person who was tempted to the sins of flesh just as anyone. He was well aware of the tumultuous, vulgar story that people gossiped about behind closed doors — the affair between his mother, Lady Judith, and the King.

But even taking that into account, Alfred could bet that his grandfather would have been mortified if he were alive and well and in the know that a norsewoman, a 'savage', had captivated his Heir's interest and desire. And perhaps, even though old Ecbert was dead, he was turning over in his grave at the _audacity_ of his Heir warming his solitary nights with thoughts of not only a shield-maiden but also a _man_.

Good thing that it didn't bother him, the opinion of ghosts. Although, he suspected that he should feel a pang of shame, for the sake of dignity. Norsemen were _the enemy_ after all, if you regarded them across a battlefield, and _untrustworthy allies_ if they could provide some advantage to the Kingdom — just pawns that the King of Wessex should dispatch strategically, in any case.

And so, he had tried to stop before, at the beginning of this mess. When he became aware that he was starting to see Lady Torvi, a _married_ woman, in a different light. And, oh god have mercy on his soul, when the fraterly grip that _her husband_ held on occasions in Alfred's arm, his shoulders, the nonchalantly pat on his thigh, became to leave a distracting tingly sensation once the warrior had let go.

But he was just a man. And whatever lustful thoughts he crafted in the privacy of his bedchambers aren't tainting no one's decorum — right?

__

_Ideo firmiter propono, adiuvante gratia tua,  
de cetero me non peccaturum peccandique  
occasiones proximas fugiturum._

For all Alfred knows, women's presence in battles might be a sinful behaviour, too. The Clergy are quick to condemn, more so when the ones being reprimanded aren't men. Clergy's prejudices on women in general is a shameful behaviour, in Alfred's opinion, they are unnecessarily crude and harsh with them and a tale about the forbidden fruit is no excuse for that.

If there were one thing that fascinated him about the norsemen's civilian structure, it was that women were free to contribute to their Kingdoms. As political counselors, as shield-maidens, as Earls, as farmers, or as whatever they were good at if they didn't wish to exclusively occupy themselves with housekeeping work.

But the Church's short-sight in worldly matters isn't something that a King should directly address — if one would like to maintain his head on his shoulders and the crown over it.

Alfred wasn't naive. He knew that any major change would take until the next generation or more, for the new perspective to sink in in the people of the Kingdom. And even then, those in the Clergy were known to grasp for power as long as they were capable of. He could only pave the way to betterment for the Heir of Wessex to follow, just as his grandfather did before him.

__

_Quia peccavi nimis cogitatione, verbo et opere:  
mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa._

"I've seen the way in which you look at my husband."

The fair skin of the King lost its healthy soft colouring in a heartbeat — but not even once crossed his mind to deny her words. He owned her at least the truth, he would never disrespect her with a lie. Even if it meant that his own honour would be tainted.

"My utmost apologies, my Lady. I understand that this might— this ≤i>will put an end to the personal relationship that the three of us have been crafting together this past months."

The woman seemed to be surprised at his words, confused even, but otherwise she remained silent and still. Alfred didn't know what to make of that.

"I can only hope," continued King Alfred, "that even though there's no forgiveness for my treachery to your honour, this wouldn't affect what we've achieved together. Above all, we are rulers, and I hope that we still continue to work as allies on behalf of our people." He started to stand up in an elegant movement as always, although the palms of his hands were a bit sweaty now, "I may take my leave now."

Holding softly his forearm, across the table, Torvi interrupted his retreat and gently pulled him down in a gesture. She didn't let go until he was seated in front of her again. A gentle smirk had appeared in the woman's face. 

"I know you are curious about us, because we are curious about your strange ways too," she poured more wine in the cups for them, while she made conversation in her usual calm tone. "You've been asking me a lot lately about my life and my people's customs, Alfred, and I'm happy to satisfy your curiosity. Though, some questions were just— seemed so— _foreign_. What with asking if it isn't forbidden for norsewomen to _paint_? That's so—" Torvi made a vague gesture with her hand. 

She knew that saxon women were stiffen up, constricted by laws and regulations and even by themselves. Men deemed women to be frail and precious creatures that must be protected and guided, and at the same time, men could view them as wicked harpies with an alluring physical exterior and motifs that were not to be trusted — nothing about that made sense to her. Still, she tried to be patient with their bizarre saxon ways. 

"What I'm trying to say, is that I think it can be easy to forget that your rich and vast country isn't the center of the world, Alfred, nevertheless that it appears to be so to your people."

Alfred took that in — trying to not feel offended by such words. But this was no talk about politics. Here, sharing the warmth and the food in this room, were just _them_. Alfred and Torvi, not the King of Wessex and the Lady Shield-maiden of faraway lands. Just them and his god. "I know that your people have— an _interesting_ view on marital arrangements but that customs are prohibited for proper, respectable people here," he said, being incapable of avoiding passing a hand on his lower face in a tired gesture, "I shouldn't have laid lustful eyes on you, nor on your husband."

And was that not the real issue here? If it were just desire, he —as a man, and as Lord— had a right to satisfy it. It wasn't strange to have Mistresses, it was just expected that you keep such proclivities in the shadows.  
But the bloody inconvenient _feelings_ that were on the way complicated everything. Alfred didn't want to spend the night with just any beautiful face nor —may god forgive him— in just any strong arms.

Torvi let out a sigh, having bitten her tongue about the implication of them not being 'proper, respectable' people, and just said, "Very well. I'll let you be, but I want to know something before I leave: the truth." The man seated in front of her made a courteous nod. She took one last sip of her wine, and then unflustered and calm aimed straight to the point. "Is that all what you feel for us? Lust?"

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are love.
> 
> I have a second chapter planned to end this story, but probably I wouldn't update this in a while because I know this is not a popular triad. Pity! They're lovely together.
> 
> Tumblr post _[here](https://luperrcalia.tumblr.com/post/635230584636145664/in-times-of-war-may-our-pillars-doesnt-shake)_.


End file.
